


Scars

by rudolphsb9



Series: Not That Far Apart After All [7]
Category: Hitman: Agent 47 (2015)
Genre: Gen, Kat starts staring, Siblings, number siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudolphsb9/pseuds/rudolphsb9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She did notice the scars, but that wasn't the first thing on her mind, to her great embarrassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

Fandom: Hitman: Agent 47  
Rating: G/PG  
Characters: Katia Van Dees; Agent 47  
Relationship: Number Siblings  
Summary: Katia notices everything, for good or ill.

~~~

“How long does it take you to heal up from getting shot?” Katia asked, straightening from dropping her bag on the floor of another suite.

“Depends on the wound,” 47 replied, as he set his briefcase and guns down on or near a coffee table. “In this case?”

“Yeah.”

She went over to him, laying a somewhat probing hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s time to change the bandage.” She turned and walked to the bathroom, opening the cleaned out medicine cabinet and grabbing a basic first-aid kit from the top shelf. She walked back into the main room, where 47 had already sat down and shrugged off his shirt and tie. She walked over to the sofa and gingerly peeled off the old bandage, still only half-covered in blood, and tossed it effortlessly into a trashcan without looking. 

47 shifted a little, leaning back in his seat but careful not to scrape at the scab forming on his shoulder. It had shrunk already, revealing a slightly pitted scar where the thin strips had peeled off, pieces of scab still attached. “Well, that looks better than I thought. You might not need a new bandage after all.”

“That’s good,” he simply said, leaning forward and grabbing his shirt. Katia caught herself staring at his back, sinewy and lean, unfazed by the perturbation of the bullet hole. She watched him stand and shrug his shirt back on, and she noticed other scars across his lateral muscles.

Struggling not to sound awkward, she asked, “Do you always heal so quickly?”

“Yes,” he replied, as if he had noticed nothing amiss. He looked over his shoulder at her as he adjusted his shirt over his shoulders, and she blushed and looked away. “Do you have any scars?”

She looked up at him suddenly. “A…a few,” she replied shakily. “I mostly gave…gave them to myself. I don’t remember all the instances.”

“I see.” She turned away again as he started buttoning up his shirt. “I wasn’t expecting you to have any.”

“Because I’m supposed to avoid any and all dangers or because I’ve got some kind of super healing power?” she asked, turning to him and cocking her head a little.

He paused and looked at her, about as surprised as he could manage to look, all things considered. “You heal the same way I do. Quickly, so as not to lose too much blood,” he said after a long pause.

“So it’s the former, then.”

“I’m surprised you’d let yourself get hurt.”

Katia held silent, not sure if she should correct him that she had, in fact, done these things to herself, perhaps willingly if in moments of insanity. She didn’t even know herself if that was correct.

“You were staring earlier.” Katia froze, her words dying on her lips, and stared at him. “Was it the scars?”

“Um…”

“No further comment necessary.” She just nodded mutely and turned away to busy herself with something.


End file.
